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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28595109">Death's Door</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CigaretteDaydreamss/pseuds/CigaretteDaydreamss'>CigaretteDaydreamss</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adoptive Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Angst and Drama, Angst and Tragedy, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Dark Wilbur Soot, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt Wilbur Soot, Insane Wilbur Soot, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Not Canon Compliant, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot is Not Okay, Wilbur Soot-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:02:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28595109</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CigaretteDaydreamss/pseuds/CigaretteDaydreamss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Even at a young age, Wilbur Soot knew he wasn’t born to be soft and quiet, but to make the world shatter and shake in his hands. He just hadn’t expected it to be in such a calamitous way. </p><p>And yet now, standing in the room with his hands on either side of the button and his head hung low, he wouldn’t have it any other way. </p><p>He caressed his knuckles on [the button], rapping them softly against it. He was knocking on death’s door, and he was prepared to meet whatever was on the other side.<br/>----<br/>Or; what was Wilbur thinking?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wilbur Soot &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Death's Door</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Trigger warnings for non-graphic descriptions of blood and death<br/>Stay safe everyone, and leave a comment or kudos! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even at a young age, Wilbur Soot knew he wasn’t born to be soft and quiet, but to make the world shatter and shake in his hands. He just hadn’t expected it to be in such a calamitous way. </p><p>And yet now, standing in the room with his hands on either side of the button and his head hung low, he wouldn’t have it any other way. </p><p>The cave housed an eerie, forlorn atmosphere. The feeling set into his bones and numbed his brain, his screaming thoughts growing silent. It made him ache, wishing for a better time. Reminiscing on the days when he would spar with Technoblade and tease Tommy. Made him wonder, <em> is this really a good idea? </em></p><p><em> There’s still time, </em> his mind pleaded.</p><p><em> Take it back, once and for all, </em>the cave whispered.</p><p>With a jerky breath, Wilbur snapped his head up and stared at the button dead center. It taunted him, wrapping his heart with the subtle but achingly persistent feeling of being out of place. Everything felt as if it were blurring around him, hyper-focusing on the oak wood stuck out of the wall. One second, one movement, one little <em> click, </em> and this would all be over. His unfinished symphony reclaimed.</p><p>He caressed his knuckles on it, rapping them softly against it. He was knocking on death’s door, and he was prepared to meet whatever was on the other side.</p><p>“What’re you doing?”</p><p>Wilbur froze.</p><p>Fireworks began booming outside, a celebration of their accomplishments today. He could only focus on the deep silence of the cave, and the heavy presence of Philza looming behind him.</p><p>“Do you know what this button is?” He breathed, turning slowly to face his father.</p><p>Phil barely spared it a glance. “I do.” His tone was scolding, as if he had simply caught Wilbur with his hand in a cookie jar rather than on a doomsday button.</p><p>Wilbur began to grow nervous. “Have you heard the-the song… on the walls before? Have you heard the song?”</p><p>Phil’s eyes narrowed at the nervous lift to Wilbur’s tone, but he remained unmoving. </p><p>“I was just saying, I-I made this big point, that there <em> was </em> a special place, but the- it’s not there anymore.” He continued, suddenly desperate to explain himself. He needed Phil to understand his actions, for he barely understood them himself. </p><p>“It is there, you’ve just won it back, Wil.” </p><p>
  <em>Fuck, he didn’t get it he just didn’t UNDERSTAND-</em>
</p><p>Wilbur broke.</p><p>“Phil! I’m always <em>so </em>close to pressing this button, <em> Phil. </em> ” He dragged his hands over his face harshly, voice not wavering in its high volume. “I’ve been here, like, seven or eight times. <em> Seven or eight times. </em>” </p><p>“And, you want to just blow it all up,” Phil stated.</p><p><em>He doesn’t get it, </em> the voices supplied, their echoes growing louder as they bounced off the walls of the cave. <em> You need to blow it up, he doesn’t <b>matter</b></em>. </p><p>“Yeah,” Wilbur whispered, holding none of the venom his previous words had. “Yeah, I think I do.”</p><p>“You fought so hard to get this land back...” Phil took a step toward him, holding his hands up as if soothing a rabid animal. Perhaps he was. </p><p>Looking up at his father now, he stuck out like a sore thumb in the dreariness of the cave. Phil was his last chance, the key to his sanity. He beckoned him, his eyes pleading with him to step down and join everyone outside. And yet, the darkness shrouding his mind decided otherwise. </p><p>“There was a saying, Phil. By a traitor, once part of L’manburg.” </p><p>The button cave and Eret’s hidden cavern melded into one in his mind’s eye, but instead of watching as a naive victim, he was suddenly the antagonist. The roles were reversed, but boy did he marvel in it. </p><p>“It was never meant to be.”</p><p>Without breaking eye contact with Phil, he swung his arm around and slammed his fist directly on the button. There was the recognizable sound of a TNT hiss suddenly echoing through the grotto.</p><p>“Oh my god,” Phil’s composure finally snapped, and the voices cheered their approval. </p><p>Wilbur was suddenly tackled to the ground, the rush of wind around him as the cave blew open dazing him. Phil was atop him, shielding his body as the walls shook and gravel rained from the ceiling. He didn’t move, just laid there as his father clutched at him in one last desperate attempt to protect his child. He just felt numb. </p><p>As the earth around them stopped shaking, Phil immediately got to his feet. He looked out of the cave, taking in the destruction of the nation and the screams of anguish as the citizens watched their home be blown apart.</p><p>Wilbur followed him up, the little rocks digging into his palms when he put them down for support. He approached Phil slowly, standing beside him to look out upon what was once his nation. He suddenly broke out in a maniacal grin. </p><p>“<em>My </em> L’Manburg, Phil,” he shouted, throwing his arms up and letting the smoke-filled wind carry his voice into the ravine. “My unfinished symphony! Forever unfinished!” He let out a ragged breath, his arms suddenly drooping. <em> This is what I wanted, so why does it hurt so bad? </em></p><p>Wilbur glanced down at the sword strapped to his side, still unmoved despite all that had happened. An idea struck him, possibly one of his best yet. </p><p>“Kill me.” He suddenly snapped, approaching Phil with rapid steps. “Phil, kill me.” Unsheathing his sword, he threw it down at the man’s feet. </p><p>Phil looked at him, horrified and white as a sheet. “Please, I-“ he stumbled over his words, so Wilbur continued. “Look, they all want you to.” he cast a hand toward the suffering people of L’Manburg, some watching, others still picking themselves up. “Phil, kill me!” he persisted. </p><p>“I- YOU’RE MY SON!” He suddenly broke through Wilbur’s pleas, both of them staring at each other. Wilbur in exasperation, Phil in terror. The claustrophobic air that had been in the cave had long lifted, but they both still felt chilled to the bone. “N-no matter what you do-“ Phil was cut off by Wilbur slamming his hands against the wall, frustration gripping him like a vice. </p><p>“Look, LOOK!” He growled, “how much work went into this, and it’s GONE.” Silence followed his declaration, and he seemed to sink in on himself. As he gazed upon the man about to kill him, he realized something. The only person’s story he was the hero in was his own. No one here would mourn him when he was gone; they would dance and sing on his grave, celebrating their freedom from his grip on their lives. “Do it.” He tried one last time, his voice unwavering. </p><p>Phil seemed to pause, but then, in the blink of an eye, Wilbur felt the diamond sword pierce his gut. The ground quickly rose to meet him, his head colliding harshly with the asphalt. His sticky blood didn’t hesitate to pool around him, wetting his hands and clothes and staining the ground. The noises around him came through staticky and broken, as if a voice though an old phone. Wilbur’s vision refused to focus, and the only thing he could identify was the orange-tinted sky above him as ash began to rain down on what was once a great nation. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Would anyone be interested in this becoming a multi-chaptered work from Ghostbur's perspective?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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